


An Unlikely Nightmare

by Koriember



Series: Kiran, Summoner of Askr [6]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Back Scratching, Canon Compliant, Dare I say a Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Handholding, Honestly this fic is filthy you might need to wipe everything down, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Interlocked Fingers, Not really lol these are joke tags this is as vanilla as it gets without it being actual smut, Voyeurism, consensual hugs, non-consensual handholding, unprotected handholding, warm hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koriember/pseuds/Koriember
Summary: Kiran heads a masterclass to show a newly summoned Dökkálfar how lewd the human mind can truly get.
Relationships: Fjorm/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Plumeria/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran (Platonic)
Series: Kiran, Summoner of Askr [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1174169
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	An Unlikely Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This was oddly sexual to write

This wasn't their Askr.

Kiran had to drill that fact repeatedly into their very confused head, but the idea still boggled the mind. Alfonse's theory was sound, and if the first dream had never ended...

Still, Breidablik was here, the white and golden weapon strapped along with her ebony and gold partner on opposite sides of Kiran's hips. And there were more orbs in the strongbox than there had been before this whole dream business started. A thought. If they used all these 'dream' orbs for summoning, would they still be there when they all woke up? A disposable resource with permanent yields, as it were? Then again, that was a stupid thought. Peony was nowhere to be found, evidently enough.

Kiran brushed a hand against the box, gloved fingers gently glazing over each of the twenty orbs in the storage. The summoner had the habit of blowing twenty orbs at their earliest convenience instead of timing it with the temporal swells of the summoning grounds. Anna would berate the hero of Askr multiple times, warning the poor summoner that with such a limited supply of summoning orbs, Breidablik wouldn't be able to fire at its optimal periods. Which meant that the Order wouldn't be at optimal strength. Which mean that Kiran wasn't being the optimal summoner.

Mathematically, this was unsound.

However, the prospect of summoning new heroes as often as possible scratched this odd itch at the back of Kiran's conscience, so there was that. Anna, squirrel conscience or not, could cry to someone else about misused funds.

The door to Kiran's office opened, and in walked Alfonse.

A very sad and distraught Alfonse. The prince was moody, yes, but sheer sadness didn't quite suit him.

"Kiran," he asked softly, minding his footing. "Have... have you seen Sharena?"

"Still in her room," came the ready reply.

"...I see. I ought to visit her, but still..."

"That was just a spell. I'm sure she doesn't actually feel any urge towards you, romantic or otherwise-"

"Not exactly reassuring. And it wasn't what I meant. I meant... the changeling business."

"Bring Fjorm. Or Eir. A little backup. I'm sure they'll give you privacy when you need it."

"...Sure. Yeah. That's a good idea."

"You're really out of it," Kiran noted. "C'mon, isn't this just all one big dream?"

"That's not it. It's..." Of course, Alfonse wouldn't say it just yet. If he really was acting out of Kiran's will, then who was the summoner before him? His friend of nearly four years, and yet...

No, this didn't quite sit right. Still, as far as dreams went, this Kiran was as convincing as it could get, considering this was pulled out of... well, their own memory. Was this really how the world saw the summoner? Kind of a loser, really. Veronica had a good point. Still, if Alfonse...

"Still with us?" Kiran asked, patting Alfonse on the shoulder in a slight display of comfort. "I'm gonna summon in a bit. You want to be there?"

"...Sure. Yeah, let's do that first. Then we can visit Sharena."

"Wonderful plan," Kiran agreed, their steps already making way towards the grounds. "Speaking of, Lysithea and the other scholars noted a huge swell as soon as we 'defeated' Plumeria."

"We killed her, Kiran. I... I killed her. With Fólkvangr, I murdered her-"

"...It was just a dream. A bad dream," Kiran sighed. "Everyone has a story. Even a Dökkálfar. Maybe we killed her, maybe we didn't and she'll be there when we wake up to smirk at us from the land of the living. And maybe not."

"She wasn't just a Dökkálfar. I mean, if you believe this whole changeling thing," Alfonse reasoned. "She must have been a truly sad child-"

"We can't pity the dead," Kiran reminded, quoting Alfonse's own pragmaticism. "We can grieve and avenge them, but we must not be bogged down by their regret. C'mon, what would Líf or Dimitri say if they saw you like this?"

"Right, right," Alfonse grumbled, nodding slowly as he followed Kiran down the hallway. Recognizing familiar footsteps, he was greeted by Fjorm and Veronica, who surmised what it meant that Breidablik and Breidablik-Angrboða were out in the open.

"Oh, we're summoning today? It's wonderful to see you, snowflake. And good afternoon, Prince Alfonse," Fjorm yawned, shivering as she always did. She gave a quick peck to Kiran's cheek and filed in behind Alfonse, still mid-conversation with Veronica.

"...And that we're still in a dream, and that- Hey, Alfonse, why don't you explain it yourself? Your theory," Veronica grumbled, still looking out for her older self that often walked around the halls like she did.

Alfonse jolted awake, previously lost in the silent monotony of walking down the long corridors of the Order of Heroes' castle.

"Oh. Well, it's a stretch, but I think we're still in a dream. And... Well."

"That part we know. The _other_ part," Veronica clarified.

"...I think I'm Kiran."

"..."

"..."

"You could be worse people," Kiran laughed, not bothering to halt their advances. Fjorm was perplexed as well.

"Wait, what? Never mind. That's..."

"Like I said, I don't have a solid grasp on things yet, so there has to be something I'm missing. I'm sure once we blow the horn at the Dream Gate, everything will sort itself out," Alfonse reasoned, shaking his head. "Pay it no mind."

"Excuse me while I feed our resident Raigh dispenser," Kiran warned, placing orbs at key lines along the summoning obelisk.

"Kiran, come now, we've-"

"Yes, yes. ' _I_ _t's a sacred rite,'"_ Kiran mimicked, embodying the spirit of Commander Anna. "So why won't it give us sacred blessings?"

"...I didn't put it there," Alfonse defended.

Honestly, Kiran's luck had been pretty poor as of late. A whole lot of Raigh's and Hawkeye's had been summoned recently with the last batch of Kiran's orbs. And a Setsuna.

They were quickly sent back to the lands they had come from.

"I pray for your good fortune," Fjorm recited, embodying the spirit of the New Year even though it was on the other side of the calendar.

"You know, we're still missing Lucina. Like, normal Lucina. We've never summoned her-"

"Kiran, focus. The Rite," Veronica pointed, smiling internally at the rival summoner's misfortune.

When Veronica had appeared, and Veronica meaning the actual villain of the first year of Kiran's tenure here at the Order, she had immediately gone to work inspecting the summoning grounds. It was something about Kiran's vastly greater resources that she wanted. Not that the Order often had many orbs to spare.

Anyway, she had simmered down for now. Maybe it was because everyone was used to the Veronica from the future? Or the one in the bunny suit. That one was pretty cute. It was hard to treat the Emblian princess as a villain after that.

Plus Xander was here, and that seemed to relax her nerves.

* * *

"Red. If it's another Raigh-"

"I will do the Rite myself if you keep blabbering about," Veronica chided, stepping forward to take Breidablik-Angrboða as her own before Kiran pulled away.

"Ah shoo, shorty. I got this."

Stepping forward, Kiran raised both of the sacred weapons towards the obelisk. Breidablik alone would have been sufficient, but Kiran had the inkling superstition that raising Breidablik-Angrboða would improve the Order's fortunes in summoning a more powerful and hopefully unique hero.

Of course, this experiment was repeated with varying degrees of success.

_"Oh heart of crimson flames, I compel thee to rage from thy place of slumber. Hear my voice and heed my call, hero of yore. You stand here once a stranger to us, but no longer. You are among friends, now, and forever more. Speak thy name and be welcomed... home."_

As always when Kiran summoned, a great light flooded the entire hall, blinding everyone including the summoner for a few seconds. It was in this time where the summoned usually greeted Kiran to varying levels of hostility or friendliness.

"You can't trick me... Summoner."

Hostility it is.

"...I've heard that voice before," Alfonse thought, still blinded by the light of the summoning. Kiran stepped forward again, lowering their weapons.

"This is no trick, hero. This is... Oh. You."

"Hero. That's a funny word, isn't it," Plumeria laughed dryly, watching the light around her fade. She stretched out her wings, eyeing that she was trapped in all directions. Not that she had any intention of leaving anyway. She hadn't felt the urge.

"Perhaps it is, Dökkálfar. But heroes are the only things that emerge from that stone."

Plumeria gave it some thought, and smiled slightly.

"You killed me just yesterday. I remember it."

Her eyes weren't on Kiran now, but to Alfonse.

"I did. And I'm sorry it had to end like that," the prince apologized with a bow. "But our summoner is right. You came from those summoning grounds because you... you're a hero."

"...What good have I done in my life? What people have I helped? What thoughts did men have, when touched by the curse of my nightmare?"

Kiran rose in stature suddenly, laying out a commanding air with a strong arm.

"Everyone, you're dismissed. Fjorm, Princess Veronica, please assist Prince Alfonse. I will speak to our newest member in private."

Kiran's tone had darkened somewhat, and the three figures nodded as they went their own ways.

The Order was quiet today. Many heroes were out training or on scouting missions. It was near silent when Kiran descended onto the summoning platform, where Plumeria had not moved. There was no sound except the clack of leather boots on smooth stone.

"Disgusting. I know the thoughts of man. The desires. The jealousy. How am I any better than that wretched depravity?"

"You tell me, Plumeria. Your last thoughts, do you recall them? When the façade of Freyja's magic shattered?"

Instantly, the Dökkálfar narrowed her eyes, thinking it quite plausible to strike Kiran with her fist.

"You would remind me of that prison? Of my mother? Of the suffering I endured just to see her smile at me?"

"I would. Do you remember what you said?" Kiran replied steadily, not trying to antagonize the elven faery.

Plumeria softened, closing her eyes and thinking of that young girl, whose face she could never quite remember.

"I just wanted her to be proud of me. Why?"

"That's an admirable goal, Plumeria. A goal worth striving toward. We can help you accomplish that goal. You can still help people here, as a hero."

"And how could I trust you? I trusted Freyja and look where that got me. What heroic deeds did I truly accomplish in that wasted life? And what false idea-"

"That's for you to determine for yourself here," Kiran interrupted. "But we're willing to help you. You're not the first of our adversaries to join us here. You won't be the last."

"...Why should I?" Plumeria asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

Plumeria walked around, testing her wings and hovering around Kiran like a wasp before landing again.

"You summoned me, sure. Maybe I'm even a hero like everyone says. Sure. But why would I help you? What can you-"

Kiran interrupted her, waving a dismissive hand to silence the rambling faery.

"Honestly, I don't even know if you're real right now. Alfonse still thinks we're in a dream. And maybe we are. Maybe we can wake up any second and my orbs are going to be gone and so will you. Sure. But right now, you're here as summoned by that dumb rock in the Order of Heroes and that makes you a Hero. You don't have to trust me yet. But I can help you."

The winged woman considered the words for a few seconds before sighing, reaching out her hand.

"Give me your arm."

"What was that?" Kiran wondered, not quite hearing-

"Your arm, summoner. Let me hold it. I will measure your worth right here and now."

"...This is _my_ body. Yeah. Alright. Even if I'm someone else, the memories..."

Nodding slowly, Kiran extended their hand just shy of Plumeria's own, giving her the freedom to hold on to it when she so desired. Hesitantly, Plumeria lifted her own hand and placed it atop Kiran's sleeve, closing her eyes. Gripping the fabric tight, she channeled her abilities as a faery of nightmare.

A rush of cold air.

* * *

The two found themselves on a snowbank in Nifl. An... oddly familiar snowbank.

Just a few feet away, Fjorm and another Kiran walked by, lost in their own conversation.

"How have you been feeling?" This memory of Kiran asked the Nifl princess.

"Better, but we both know it isn't going to stay that way. Honestly, you're a fool for risking your life to give me more time, but I... I have been feeling well, thanks to you."

"I suppose we would have to just enjoy these moments while we can," Kiran replied. "It's good to be back in Nifl. Hrid is spearheading the rebuilding efforts well. Does he know?"

"I... Let him know the gist of it. Not Ylgr. She's not quite ready to handle that yet."

"I suppose you'll just have to hold on as long as you can then," Kiran reasoned. The summoner offered a free hand to the princess, who took it in her own gratefully.

"As long as I can," Fjorm repeated, interlocking her hand with Kiran's own. Cold and warm fingers intermingled, and the princess giggled at the sensation.

"What? Tickles?"

"Sort of."

"Well, it's like you say; touching you is still like holding ice. Honestly, you Nifl folk are weird."

"And you have quite warm hands. They're such comforts to hold. Especially when you take off your gloves."

* * *

Just as soon as it had started, the nightmare for Plumeria ended. Once more, Kiran and Plumeria were back on the summoning grounds.

Without warning, the faery caught her breath, holding her chest tight as if she had suffered a bout of heartburn.

"Utterly shameless," Plumeria blushed maddeningly, relinquishing Kiran's sleeve for a brief moment as she regained her composure. Even as she looked away, Kiran could see the intense crimson of the faerie's cheeks.

"...You alright there, Plumeria?"

"...Yes. But that was... eh. Risque. Suggestive. I didn't expect such depravity this shallow in your memories..."

"We were just holding hands."

"Without gloves!"

"Okay, so it was cold, so what-"

"Unprotected hand holding! Really!? I know humans are sick and twisted, but you... how could the Order follow someone as debaucherous as you-"

"Grab my hand."

"W-what?"

Kiran suddenly grabbed Plumeria's wrist, gingerly holding it between a strong thumb and index finger as they took off their right glove.

"N-no, wait, let's not get-"

"Unprotected. Right here, right now. Grab my damn hand."

"Is this how you coerce the heroes to obey your will-Eep!"

Kiran shook Plumeria's hand, not quite intermingling fingers but leaving no room for doubt as skin met skin. Kiran steadily observed Plumeria's face, who was looking down and away even as she closed her eyes.

A rush of cold air.

* * *

Kiran was alone now, pacing slowly along a grassy hill where a simple headstone lay. Embedded haft first into the ground was Leiptr.

"I'm not doing my best, Fjorm. I'm getting sloppy. Hel isn't letting up and neither is Lif or Thrasir. They're hounding us at every turn, and I've already had to send back some heroes who got too injured. And... I haven't seen you yet. Eir said you might be here, but..."

Kiran kicked some grass away, groaning in exasperation.

"I know it's a stretch that I could bring you back, but I really thought we would have more than half a year together. I just want you back. I... I want to see your smile again, to wrap my arms around you and... watch the Nifl sunsets on the snowbank and..."

"...Kiran."

The summoner turned, already knowing the voice who had greeted them.

"Sharena."

"I'm sorry. I really thought we would find Princess Fjorm among Hel's... captive."

"It's alright. Eir was just guessing. Maybe she doesn't know everything about her mother," the summoner suggested, laughing at the thought.

"I know you must be disappointed. And I don't know if it's right to try to get you to smile, and-"

"Nonsense, Sharena." Kiran smiled lightly, even as the dry trail of tears stained their face. "There are those far less fortunate than I. I cannot be sad forever, knowing that I once held her hand, and cultivated joy in her heart. She died happy, did she not?"

"Yeah."

"And I could never be ashamed and saddened by that fact. I did everything I could. And I got to hold her in my arms for the effort. There will be no sad summoners moping here today, Princess."

"...You sure?"

"Of course. I just visit this place to gather my thoughts and my courage. And... well, I need this," Kiran pointed to Leiptr, carefully uprooting it and twirling it in their hands to get a feel for the weight. "Lif almost got me last time. I'm going to poke that jelly-filled ribcage of his, see if it tastes like the sport drinks back home. Honestly, I don't know why I stopped bringing her spear around. It's mine to use, isn't it?"

Kiran twirled Leiptr expertly this time, enjoying the feel of familiar Nifl steel in their hands. They were taught by its previous owner, after all.

"Ha. It's good to see you smiling, Kiran. I just wanted to check in on you, but I guess you were doing fine. Here."

With a few skips, Sharena closed the distance between the two and leapt into a full-on hug with the summoner.

"Gods you're strong," Kiran wheezed, struggling to return the embrace even as their ribs cracked. "Alfonse never hugs me this hard."

Sharena eased the pressure, nestling her head next to Kiran's hood and breathing in the air of... well this was an awfully chummy hug. But it was nice. She let go after a few more seconds, huffing and smiling all the while.

"Oh, he wants to, I'm sure. That felt nice."

"Likewise. I needed that. Let's... let's go back."

* * *

"Uh, that face isn't what I was expecting."

"I am thinking. Hush."

"...I feel like you are hating more with every second."

"Hug me."

Kiran opened their mouth only for hot air to seep out.

"...What? Did I not make myself clear?"

"Ah, I'm growing on you," Kiran said with recomposed vigor.

"A simple gesture warmed your heart of grief and despair. I... I wish to know that feeling as well. Hug me."

There was a surprisingly low level of shame or embarrassment coming from the Dökkálfar. An oddly genuine request didn't seem... so unnatural, Kiran supposed. Still, some problems presented themselves as soon as the summoner spread their arms.

"Uh, your wings. I might, I don't know... And your hair. Are those thorns-"

"Are you going to hug me or not?"

"Right, right!"

Kiran stepped forward cautiously, enveloping the passive faery with their broader arms, constricting her own arms as a gloved hand grabbed its counterpart's wrist to secure the embrace. Kiran let out a snort as Plumeria's wings fluttered from excitement, threatening to knock away the hands constricting the shoulders they were seemingly attached to.

"You alright there? Don't fall asleep on me."

"...This is really nice. I... do kind of want to go to sleep, to be honest."

Kiran chuckled at that, and Plumeria's soft smile and closed eyes could be seen in the corner of the summoner's vision.

"Well, the idea is to hug me back. You smell really nice by the way."

"...Likewise. I loved juniper berries as a kid and... Hmm."

Kiran felt two arms snake across and beneath the summoner cloak they wore, shivering as Plumeria's longer nails lightly caressed their shoulder blades with nothing but a thin shirt beneath to shield the delicate touch. The Dökkálfar's head came to rest on Kiran's chest, and her soft breaths tickled as hot air snuck across the summoner's neck.

"Whoa."

The faery didn't respond, losing herself in the moment as she clutched harder, fully invested in the embrace.

"Oh, how I wish my mother gave me these. How would they feel, I wonder," Plumeria thought aloud, closing her eyes.

The two stayed in their rather intimate embrace for a little while, before Kiran cleared a rather nervous throat.

"...You give wonderful hugs. But get out of my coat; I'm taken and your hands do not belong there."

Plumeria laughed slightly, nuzzling in as she opened her eyes before reluctantly letting go.

"Taken as a fool, perhaps. But my, you humans must indulge in these lewd acts for a reason. That felt... comforting. I was right. I feel happier, just from that. Lewd as it was, it was nice."

"...Yeah," Kiran winced, not sure how to explain to the faery that... well. Maybe hugs and hand-holding were rather affectionate. "Sure, let's go with lewd. Still, do you feel confident among us now? Not even as a hero, but as Plumeria?"

"...I guess I do. I... yes, I would like to be a member of the Order of Heroes. I've gazed into your mind, Kiran. I can trust you. I want to feel the same happiness you feel. I want to be a hero for the sake of... myself. And others."

"Then take my hand, one more time. You missed something really important."

Plumeria widened her eyes, stepping closer as she reluctantly took Kiran's hand.

A rush of cold air.

* * *

This time, they were on the... summoning grounds?

"Wait, what happe-"

"Shh, look."

Kiran pointed upward, to where the memory Kiran stood atop the grounds with Alfonse and Sharena looking on on either side of them. In one hand was Breidablik, aimed as always toward the stone. In the other was Leiptr, freshly bloodied from pummeling a certain revenant general hard enough that her soul had been freed from Hel itself.

"A summoning ritual. This is how you summoned me, right?"

"Yep. Watch."

_"Oh depths of the cerulean sea, I compel thee to surge forward and claim thine earthly throne. Hear my voice and heed my call, hero of yore. You stand here once a stranger to us, but no longer. You are among friends, now, and forever. Speak thy name and be welcomed... home."_

"My name is Princess Fjorm of Nifl, at your service. And... Well, that didn't take long at all. I'm... back? Aren't I? Thanks for keeping my lance safe, my snowflake-"

A gasp, and Breidablik dropped to the ground.

"Kiran, wait! The ritual-"

Without warning, Kiran had leaped off nearly 15 feet of platform too ungraciously crash into the summoning grounds. As soon as their footing had been restored, the summoner had locked the princess of Nifl in a rather passionate kiss. In public.

* * *

"...Still with us?"

Plumeria was in a self-contained hysteric fit.

"Show me to my quarters immediately. I must... meditate on this, uh, _now_."

"...Right. Sure, follow me."


End file.
